


Kal AU: Bella

by wheel_pen



Series: Alice [35]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Naughtiness, Red Kryptonite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 05:47:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU subseries of Alice series. Clark’s unstable clone meets Lana’s unstable clone. This story is unfinished.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kal AU: Bella

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Alice, my original female character, is new in Smallville. There is something special about her, and she and Clark form a relationship.
> 
> 2\. This series starts after the end of the second season—after the destruction of the spaceship and Clark abruptly leaving town.
> 
> 3\. Underage warning: This story may contain human or human-like teenagers, in high school, in sexual situations.
> 
> 4\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

            Lana’s screams of terror were the most horrible sound Clark could imagine, but he had to focus on them to trace her through the labyrinth of grey metal corridors in the underground lab. At last he burst through a door into some kind of control room, filled with computers and banks of controls with sinister, glowing lights. On the other side of a huge window, Lana was sealed into a large glass chamber that was already filling with green gas that she tried to pull away from.

            Clark realized, from the nausea growing in his stomach, that it must be Kryptonite-based gas, but he wasn’t close enough for it to do much damage yet. In order to save her, however...

            There was one person in the room—a twitchy scientist in a white lab coat and wire-rim glasses. Clark grabbed the man and hauled him furiously against the wall. “Turn it off!” he demanded, reminding himself not to permanently debilitate him.

            “Can’t, can’t, sorry,” the man replied in a curious sing-songy tone. He giggled nervously and Clark wondered if you had to be on some kind of drugs to work in a place like this.

            Clark shoved him again, to make his point. “Turn it off and get her out of there!”

            “Once the button’s been pushed, you have to see it through to the end,” the man told him, as if it were obvious. “If I stop it now—POOF!” Clark dropped him as he made some kind of gesture with his hands. “Just like all the rabbits.”

            Leaving the addled scientist, Clark turned back to the window, watching in horror as Lana was forced to breathe in the green gas. He slammed his fist into the window, shattering it, and was about to leap into the room when the machinery made a threatening hum. Electricity surged through and around the chamber containing Lana, then switched to the empty chamber beside it. As Clark stared, something was— _forming_ in the empty chamber, something obscured by the currents of electricity and the clouds of gas. A moment later, the humming stopped, the electricity dissipated, and the green gas was drawn away by fans.

            “Let’s open her up now,” suggested the scientist cheerfully, pressing a combination of buttons. Clark jumped over the windowsill and landed in the experiment room, staggering a little from the lingering traces of Kryptonite gas. The massive bolts on Lana’s chamber unlocked and the door unsealed itself with a little hiss. Clark ripped the door off anyway—unnecessary, but it made him feel better—and scooped the dazed Lana into his arms.

            “Lana?” he asked urgently, lying her down on the cold floor. She coughed and moaned but appeared to be relatively unharmed. “What did you do to her?” he shouted at the scientist.

            “It’s an experiment,” the man answered defensively. “I told him, the rabbits never came out quite right, but he wanted to try it on a human anyway...”

            Clark shook his head and turned back to the girl on the floor. “Lana? Can you hear me? Are you okay?” She moaned again—except he didn’t think she did. She coughed, except she didn’t move. Surely, Clark thought, no one would go to _this_ kind of trouble simply to give Lana the ability to throw her voice, so...

            “Oooh, look there,” the scientist said eagerly, and Clark followed his pointing finger to the other chamber. And promptly lost his balance and sat down hard on the floor.

            Crouched at the bottom of the other chamber was—Lana. Naked, to be precise, although Clark wasn’t really interested in that at the moment. Just the fact that there were _two_ Lanas—yes, one on the floor, one in the chamber—was enough to occupy most of his thought processes. There was a _thunk_ and a hiss as the second chamber opened, and the naked girl lost her support and tumbled out.

            “Hmmm,” commented the scientist thoughtfully. “Maybe I should get a smock.”

            Giving the man a dubious glance Clark stripped off his plaid button-down and approached the second Lana with it, like he was approaching a wild animal he intended to subdue. The shirt was like a dress on her, fortunately, and Clark didn’t bother with the sleeves, just wrapped the flannel around her and tried to figure out how he was going to carry both of them out of there without attracting _too_ much attention.

            “We’ll have to watch _that_ one,” the scientist told Clark knowingly. “She may not be quite right.”

            “What do you mean?” Clark asked him urgently.

            “The rabbits were never quite right, I told him, but he wanted to try it with a person anyway...”

            The second Lana moaned, drawing Clark’s attention away from the unhelpfully insane man at the control panel. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused. “Um... Lana?” he questioned hesitantly.

            “Clark?” She coughed. She had Lana’s memories, apparently. “What happened?”

            He glanced back at the first Lana, the original Lana, who had rolled over onto her side. “Um, I’ll explain later,” he promised, hoping that later, he actually _had_ something to explain.

 

******

 

            “Two Lana Langs? Man, this town is getting weirder every day.” Pete spoke with the jaded tone of one who had lived in Smallville his entire life—after fat-sucking dates, mood-altering flowers, and a friend who turned out to be an alien, meteorite-induced clones failed to impress him. “What’d you do with her?”

            “Well, Lana was pretty freaked about it,” Clark admitted, shifting his textbooks to his other arm. “The first Lana, I mean. The second one, too, come to think of it. I left them home asleep. The hospital just didn’t seem like the right place to go...”

            “Yeah, that’d be a little difficult to explain,” Pete agreed, a smirk threatening to break free. “Would that count as an amputation or what?”

            “Pete,” Clark admonished in that slightly whiny goody-two-shoes tone he got sometimes, “it’s not funny!”

            “I think they give you an antibiotic,” Alice cut in, joining them by the water fountain. “To keep the Lanas from multiplying. Like a Lanacide.”

            Clark glared ineffectively at her while Pete snickered. “Anyway,” he continued pointedly, “Lex said he’d have his people look into it, but that doctor in charge was pretty unhelpful...”

            “Clark!” He turned quickly as Chloe jogged up to them, distressed. “Lana’s gone!”

            “Which one?” Alice asked, unconcerned.

            “Um, I’m not really sure,” Chloe confessed. “I got them kind of mixed up after a while. They were both asleep this morning when I got up, but when I went to check on them at lunch—there was only one.”

            Clark’s eyes widened in alarm. “Well, we’ve got to find her,” he told his friends unnecessarily. “She might be... sick or delusional or—“

            “Really hot,” breathed Pete suddenly. Clark was about to chastise him for not paying attention in a crisis, but then he followed Pete’s gaze down the hall and understood the distraction completely.

            Smallville High had, over the last year or so, gotten used to Alice in her risqué Goth wear, much to her annoyance, but her ensembles had had little to no effect on the fashion of the local girls. People wore what they had always worn, since eighth grade at least, and anyone who underwent a serious fashion makeover did so only under the intense scrutiny and speculation of their peers. And every peer in the hallway was currently scrutinizing the local girl—one of their own—who strutted past them now, storing up their speculation for later.

            Clark had flashbacks to the unfortunate incident involving the Nicodemus flower and a dunking in the school swimming pool as he watched Lana— _a_ Lana—parade purposefully towards them in a red miniskirt and matching tanktop, both tight and small, her chunky-heeled black boots thunking on the tile floors. She was still wearing a lot of make-up—that at least hadn’t changed—but it was different, more dramatic and attention-getting. As if anything about her _wasn’t_ designed to get attention.

            The Lana stopped at the group of teenagers, her eyes only for Clark. Much to Clark’s chagrin. “Clark,” she greeted breathily, batting her heavily-painted eyes.

            “Um, hi... Lana,” he stuttered, backing up a little. “How are you feeling?”

            “Like a million bucks,” she replied suggestively. Suggestive of _what_ , specifically, Clark wasn’t exactly certain.

            “Well... good,” Clark croaked out, as she continued to invade his personal space. He cast a sidelong glance at Alice and despaired even further to see that she was fuming quietly. Clark knew he couldn’t count on her to continue the ‘quietly’ part for long.

            Chloe tried to cut in. “Um, Lana, I was really worried when I saw you’d left the house at lunch today...”

            Lana shot her the briefest gaze, but it was withering. “I got bored lying around the house,” she responded snidely, then appeared to dismiss the blond from her thoughts. Lana pulled a bundle of fabric from somewhere and held it up before Clark, her bright red lips stretched into a smile. He took it automatically, before he recognized it. “Your shirt, I believe,” she told him coyly. If standing approximately three inches away from him still counted as ‘coy.’ “You left it in my bed...”

            Clark blushed and he opened his mouth quickly to explain, even though he knew everyone in earshot understood the truth of her misleading comment, but Alice reached her limit before he could speak. “Okay, that’s enough,” she said authoritatively, stepping in front of Clark and forcing Lana to back up. “You wanna go all ‘bad Lana’ on us, fine. But you can find someone _else_ to obsess over for a change.”

            “Um, Alice, I don’t think you should...” Clark’s plea for tolerance was cut off by a black leather boot stepping on his foot, courtesy Alice.

            Lana’s eyes narrowed—dangerously, in Clark’s opinion—but Alice had always been a little... territorial, and her body language clearly said she wasn’t budging. “Clark and I were _meant_ to be together!” Lana declared viciously, sizing up her opponent. “You are an interloper. A temporary distraction.”

            “You wanna distraction?!” Alice demanded, pushing Lana back with bruising taps to her shoulders until she was against the wall. Alice’s hand moved far too easily from Lana’s shoulder to her throat. “How about I crush your windpipe?”

            “Alice!” Clark couldn’t believe Alice was really serious about the whole violent death thing... Maybe she was just trying to scare Lana? She hadn’t been _that_ bad, after all...

            “I’d like to see you try!” Lana gasped, then gripped the front of Alice’s shirt and flung her against the opposite wall like she was a rag doll. Screams from onlookers and a horrible _clang_ echoed down the hall as Alice left a sizable dent in the lockers but scrambled to her feet, murder in her eyes.

            Clark got to her first, wrapping his arms around her waist and using all his strength to hold her back. “Alice! Alice, don’t, she could hurt you—“ The last bit was, of course, for the benefit of the audience—although if New Lana had super strength, who knew what _other_ powers might lurk beneath her gaudy hood?

            He turned back to Lana barely in time to see the expression on her face—she looked shocked, and distressed, as if she hadn’t realized she possessed this ability yet. Clark knew the feeling intimately, and he wished he could trust Alice enough to release her and go to Lana, to reassure her, but at the moment that was out of the question. “Lana, wait a minute—“ But the brunette turned and fled down the corridor—not with super speed, at least, but by the time Clark felt certain Alice wasn’t going to chase her down and rend her limb from limb, Lana was long gone.

 

            Kal was taking a break from fixing the fence. He wasn’t physically tired, of course, but he was d—n bored. Jonathan had given him a pointed look and said he _trusted_ Kal would be alright on his own while Jonathan took a trip to the hardware store for supplies... Jonathan had _probably_ meant he expected Kal to continue working while unsupervised, but Kal chose to interpret it as, he expected Kal not to commit any moral or legal crimes. Assuming Jonathan wasn’t gone _too_ long, that is.

            Fortunately, for Jonathan’s rather inflexible ethical demands at least, there wasn’t much trouble for Kal to get into on the back end of the property. Setting random plants on fire with his heat vision had held his attention for all of thirty-seven seconds--not counting the time he was extinguishing a small prairie fire caused by accidentally sparking a dry patch of grass—and Kal was seriously considering a super-speed trip to Metropolis for a few minutes, if only to knock back a couple of shots in his favorite bar. Or to pick up some clothes that _didn’t_ make him look like a total hayseed.

            Before he could launch himself, however, a sound caught his ear and he turned to see someone running, rather painfully, down the dirt road that separated Kent land from the Johnsons’. Kal could _hear_ the uncoordinated footfalls and the labored breathing of the runner, but if he and/or Clark were ever going to be blessed with telescopic vision, it hadn’t kicked in yet, so he leaned back against the fence and waited. He was warming up to mock whatever clumsy jogger had decided to stagger along this isolated property when the figure tripped and thoroughly collapsed in the dirt, and Kal heard a familiar sob emanating from the heap.

            Blurring without thinking, he arrived at the figure’s side in an instant and knelt down, perusing the not-athletically-sound miniskirt and boots with a mixture of confusion and admiration. “Hey, Lana,” Kal said, nudging her shoulder gently, “are you okay?”

            Her head snapped up, and he smirked because there was almost as much make-up as dirt on her face. “Clark?” she asked, clearly befuddled.

            “Close enough,” he decided, helping her sit up. A skirt that short didn’t leave much room for maneuvering, but Kal didn’t let that bother him.

            “Wh-what are you doing out here?” she questioned, sniffling and trying to wipe away the tears and dirt that were leaving interesting streaks on her face. “I ju-just left you at sch-school...”

            “Well, what do you _think_ I’m doing here?” Kal replied reasonably. People in this town made so many assumptions... Kal liked to let them work _for_ him, for a change.

            Lana smiled a little, embarrassed. “You were worried about me?”

            “Of course,” he grinned. It was really pretty easy being ‘Clark’ for Lana, since about 70% of Clark was all in her mind anyway. “Come on, let’s get up now—“

            She grimaced, scrunching up her face. “My ankle—“

            Kal scanned it quickly. “It isn’t broken,” he assured her, adding quickly, “I bet. Come on.” He lifted her easily, not shying away from the physical contact as the _real_ Clark would have, but of course that didn’t bother Lana.

            “What about Alice?” she breathed, not thinking to ask why her feet weren’t actually touching the ground.

            Kal tried to imagine whatever scene had taken place at school. “Oh, I’d stay away from Alice if I were you,” he advised cheekily. “She doesn’t like to share.”

            Instead of taking up Kal’s flirtatious banter, Lana’s nose wrinkled up and her eyes started to fill with fresh tears. “I didn’t _mean_ to hurt her, Clark,” she whined, and Kal tried to look like he knew what she was talking about. “It’s just—I don’t know—since I woke up I just feel so—different.”

            Kal set her on her feet and stepped back to look her up and down, still keeping a hand on her waist. “Well, you _look_ different, that’s for sure,” he admitted. “But I kinda like it.”

            Her eyes widened. “Really?”

            “H—l yeah,” Kal assured her. “You look really hot.” That statement, at least, was completely sincere.

            Lana leaned experimentally on her injured ankle, then frowned. “Still hurts?” Kal asked solicitously, imagining carrying her over to a shady spot for a ‘rest.’ She’d be off her feet, anyway...

            “No,” Lana replied, sounding worried. “It doesn’t hurt at all anymore.”

            “That’s good, isn’t it?” Kal slid his hand farther around her waist and tried to maneuver her towards a little patch of trees just on the Johnson side of the fenceline. He _really_ hoped Jonathan took a long time getting those supplies.

            She resisted moving. “It’s just—it really hurt, only a minute ago, and now...” She leaned her full weight on it. “It’s perfectly fine.”

            “So what are you complaining about?” Kal shrugged.

            “That’s not—it’s not _normal_ ,” Lana concluded, horror growing in her voice.

            Kal grinned down at her and pulled her close. “Well come on, Lana,” he replied smoothly, “who wants _normal_ anyway?” He rubbed his hand in small circles over her lower back, enjoying the feel of bare skin where the tank top didn’t quite meet the skirt. “I mean, if you were interested in _normal_ , you’d be wearing some fuzzy pink sweater s‑‑t or something, right?” He leaned his face closer, murmuring his words into her ear.

            Lana shook her head, unconvinced. “No, no, Clark, there’s _not normal_ like-like wearing something cool and sexy instead of the fuzzy pink sweater s—t”—and hearing Lana Lang say the word ‘s—t’ was surprisingly sexy, in Kal’s opinion—“and there’s _not normal_ like you... touching me and...”

            Kal nibbled her earlobe. “Are you complaining?” Her breathy moan didn’t _sound_ like a complaint.

            “No, not at all...” Lana sighed, tipping her head back. Kal started nuzzling her neck in earnest—once you got around the dirt, she tasted pretty good, exactly like Kal knew she would. Exactly like _Clark_ would have known she would, if he hadn’t been such a p---y all these years and wimped out every time he had a chance to make it with Lana. Of course, now Clark had Alice, and Alice was a h—l of a girl, whose primary advantage over Lana in _this_ particular situation was, Kal had to be careful not to nuzzle Lana _too_ hard. Wouldn’t want to snap her neck or anything. “It’s just...”

           Kal kissed her lips so he wouldn’t have to waste energy figuring out what she was saying. He chased her tongue with his own, teased it out, made sure that if he only got this one chance to kiss Lana—and he might, if Clark ‘fessed up about having a twin to her—he was going to remember every millisecond of it. Kal let his hands slide down from her waist to her a-s, cupping her through the stretchy red fabric of her skirt. She was a little thing, yeah, not as curvy as Chloe or Alice, but Kal wasn’t demanding about that sort of thing. She was warm and willing and soft and pretty and he still had the residual _and she’s Lana!_ giddiness leftover from Clark’s mind, and that mind had played out _so_ many fantasies with her as the star that Kal couldn’t help but react to the physical sensations.

           Kal was enjoying himself so much, in fact, that he forgot to let her breathe, and he didn’t notice Lana’s first few shoves against his chest in protest—he hardly felt them. Kal _did_ , however, notice when he was pushed so hard he flew backwards twenty feet and knocked over a section of the fence he was supposed to be repairing, ending up flat on his back in a pile of splintered wood. Shaking his head, Kal propped himself up on his elbows as Lana jogged over. She stopped just out of reach, a horrified expression on her face. “Clark! Are you okay?”

           “Yeah, I’m fine,” he assured her, pushing himself to his feet. He tried to look like he was a little bit sore from the... fall, but mostly he was concentrating on how he ended up on the ground in the first place. “What the h—l just happened?”

           “I’m-I’m sorry,” Lana told him quickly, eyes wide, breath unsteady. “I just—I couldn’t—I didn’t mean to hurt you, I don’t know—“ She stared at her hands as if they were evil, foreign things.

           Kal reached out and took them in his own before she could pull away. “Lana, you just tossed me twenty feet,” he pointed out, a grin sliding across his face. “That is _definitely_ not normal. But it _is_ pretty cool.”


End file.
